


Bruised Knuckles

by SgtPepper007



Series: EXO Oneshots [13]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bikers, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fights, Freedom, Friendship, Gen, Psychological, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 10:43:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20256817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SgtPepper007/pseuds/SgtPepper007
Summary: Jongin wasn't ready to enter the pressuring and stressful world of young adults, lost in his identity and future prospects that seem to be far too unattainable and foggy. However, Junmyeon is there to ease his mind, with both his love as a friend and Jongin's motorbike.





	Bruised Knuckles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fallacyofwhat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallacyofwhat/gifts).

> Dedicated to my partner in crime, my French vanilla butter pecan, one of the artists and writers I admire and support the most and who let me have the pleasure to write a one shot based on her [fanart](http://aminoapps.com/p/05kzgp) that my eyes were set on since she posted it, an artwork that I love incredibly. I still remember the first time I saw it; I was completely stunned and still am. So J, know that you are a wonderful artist and person and that I am more than happy that you let me write a one shot based on your artwork and I dearly hope I didn’t disappoint with my writing, which, to my relief, was approved.  
Moreover, thank you for creating such a mindblowing cover for me, for lack of proper words to actually describe it. It was truly a delight to see the whole process and to share this happiness and times of refreshing creativity with you from both sides. I am honoured to have your artwork as the cover for my oneshot and even more for you spending hours on it as well as giving it your heart and soul, and for going on this journey with me.  
Thank you is an understatement. But human vocabulary, no matter how powerful, feels weak compared to what I would like to express.  
So, for a lack of proper vocabulary, once again and never enough,  
Thank you.  
You can find her amazing artwork and cover, as well as her special message, [here](http://aminoapps.com/p/f6hgxl), on EXO's platform on Amino.

Pain shot through the injured man who hissed under his breath, trying to conceal the sounds a little bit, but unable to restrain them as the familiar burn from his wounds violently assaulted him. His friend ignored it and continued to apply a disinfectant tissue over the bloody cuts tainting the other man’s knuckles. The man getting the treatment stood still nonetheless and sighed when his hand was freed from his friend’s hold who finished cleaning his wounds. He tentatively moved his fingers, curling them to close his palms, but took a sharp breath when another wave of throbbing pain shot through his hands, barely managing to move them at all. He observed his flesh that was covered in bruises, his knuckles red and badly swollen and some trails of blood that his friend neglected to clean still visible on the back of his hands.

“They didn’t spare you tonight either, huh?”

The injured man tried to move his fingers again, eyes locked on them, and scoffed, “Don’t worry, I took care of them. I bet they won’t want to see my face ever again. They are the ones who need treatment.”

His friend sighed, exasperated. He took a roll of bandage out of his backpack and cautiously took the other man’s left hand, “Don’t move too much or else it will hurt even more.”

“I don’t need it, Junmyeon,” the man exclaimed while prying his hand away from his friend, but it was soon snatched back to be settled on the other man’s lap, bandage roll ready to cover the wounds.

“Cut your bullshit, you need it if you want to properly heal. I know you; you’ll open the cuts again in a matter of seconds and will text me to come and clean your wounds over again. I have other things to do than patch you up, you know?”

“I can do this myself.”

Junmyeon laughed while starting to cover his friend’s hand with the material, sarcasm radiating off him, “You do it like a five-year-old. And you never clean them properly and keep getting infections.”

“That’s my own problem.”

“Jongin!” Junmyeon scolded, his task momentarily disrupted as he stopped moving and looked at the other man, the latter’s gaze lost on the river by their feet as the calm stream was moving gently and bumping the rocks surrounding it, his expression stoic, yet revealing that it wasn’t only his flesh that was wounded. Or maybe Junmyeon simply knew his friend too well. 

The city’s colourful skyscrapers were reflected on the water, their lights flashing brightly as the darkness of the summer night was making them gain their life. Junmyeon gazed at Jongin for a while before sighing again, a habit he gained by constantly being at his friend’s side, and continued to tend for his duty. Jongin flinched a few times but didn’t utter a word or made attempts to stop him. After a few minutes of silent gasps of pain, both of Jongin’s hands were covered by bandages, cuts and bruises disinfected and shielded from any external threats.

The two friends were engulfed in comfortable silence as they let the water moving be the only sound echoing along the riverside, accompanied by the roars of the cars passing by over the bridge at their sides that linked the two lands together, the early morning not stopping the city’s wildlife, even in the middle of the week. Jongin took a cigarette out of his pants’ pocket while trying to ignore the pain his fresh wounds still brought him. When he managed to get one out, he put it in between his lips and lit it, smoke instantly coming out of the stick. He took a deep drag on it, eyes void of any distinguishable emotions locked on the tall illuminated buildings at the other side of the river, and exhaled the smoke that instantly relieved him and his sore body. He coughed a little bit, making his abdomen ache from the movement, his hands not being the only body parts inflicted by injuries.

“How much did you get this time?”

Jongin rumbled in his jacket inner pockets, cigarette dangling in between his lips while struggling to take a hold of an envelope when his hands brushed against the material and fished it out of the pocket. He opened it and took the bills out, displaying them proudly in front of his friend. “I have enough to pay for my motorbike repairs,” he said while swinging the bills from left to right, a smirk dancing on lips and a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes before he winced from the few wounds on his face, which was soon distorted in pain.

Junmyeon sighed for the umpteenth time and rested his hands on the pavement behind him, head slightly craned so he had a clear view of the starless sky. Jongin put his money back in his jacket and took another drag on his cigarette, rejoicing the feeling of the smoke escaping his lungs and flowing out of his nostrils, Junmyeon sometimes taking a few drags on Jongin’s cigarette too. The two friends admired the scenery before them, the late summer warmth enveloping them in its arms and plunging them into an odd sense of security as they were alone under the bridge. They spent the next hour without conversing, simply enjoying the early morning air while it wasn’t as polluted as usual. Jongin’s eyes soon gained their usual blank expression and breathed the air filled with smoke that was surrounding the two friends.

“We should head home, it’s getting late. And I have to get up early to go to uni.”

Jongin shrugged his shoulders as a mere response, eyes still focused on the sight displayed in front of him. Junmyeon stroke and patted his arm before getting up, apologizing when his friend couldn’t hide a flinch. Jongin put out his second cigarette after taking a last drag on it and painfully got up as well, his body voicing its dissatisfaction at the action. They strolled on the bridge to cross the land before heading home, the two men walking side by side until they had to part ways. When Jongin reached his apartment, instantly welcomed by the heat blazing in the whole place since it was directly hit by the late summer sun the entire day, he dropped his keys on the kitchen’s table, headed straight towards his bedroom and flopped down on his bed after turning on the small and barely functional fan by his bed, hissing in pain as his sore body wasn’t sparing him at all. 

He lifted his hands in the air and observed the bandages covering them, trying to move his fingers again, but soon refraining any movement when pain shot through him with even more force. That night’s fight was especially rough, Jongin having to face two guys that had quite the notoriety at the club. The aftermath of his fights wasn’t usually as bad as this one, but he had managed to get a good amount of money out of it, so he reasoned that it was a small sacrifice that was worth it. 

He gazed absentmindedly at his ceiling before pulling a small plastic bag out of his jacket. When he managed to stand up after a couple of attempts, he went to his small balcony and took some of the content safely stocked in the bag. He took out a long paper and put the substance on it before rolling his joint with difficulty.

“Fucking hell.” Jongin spilled a few other curses when some of the marijuana dropped on the ground, his fingers not collaborating at all to his task. He tried as much as possible to ignore the pain and eventually successfully rolled his joint, hands trembling and showing their discontentment at how badly Jongin was treating them. He quickly lit it and took his breath of it as he was gazing at the lifeless street in front of him. He tried to shut down the countless thoughts flooding his mind and dragging him deeper into a void he wasn’t too keen on free falling into at that moment while taking a few drags, enjoying the buzz he got from each breath and hoping it would at least numb his senses and relax him a little bit, even if just for a short moment. 

________________________________________

The next days were nothing out of the ordinary for Jongin. He spent the following morning putting the local newspaper by his neighbours’ doors, walking a couple of extra miles since he covered up for the other guy who didn’t show up to do his share of work. It didn’t give him a huge pay, but it was enough to buy the necessities so he would always have a full stomach, at least for a few days. He wouldn’t complain about taking the additional work, which meant more money in his pockets, although his body was. He would usually take his bike, but he could barely take a spoon in his hands, chopsticks being out of the question, so he opted for a wiser option; walk. However, the option turned out being not that wise since it only worsened his condition. 

While he was attending his work in the area that wasn’t usually in his route, not missing the opportunity to scan the various shops and businesses around to look for places that would hire him, he realised that he was getting closer to the local university. A few curses rolled out of his tongue lowly, not up to see the students’ faces so early in the morning. But he couldn’t avoid it, or else he wouldn’t have as much money. He was paid for the number of newspapers he gave and there were a lot of houses and apartments surrounding the university. It would be his loss if he would skip it. He took a deep breath and walked by the imposing buildings of the many facilities, grateful that he didn’t cross paths with any familiar faces and that it wasn’t lunch time yet. When he finished his work and walked back in front of the university with quick strides, he spotted a face he knew too well on the campus. Warmth instantly flowed in his body at the sight, the man he was eyeing distracted by a bird that was chirping on a tree above him. Jongin cracked a small smile for a moment and was about to call Junmyeon’s name out when two other students wrapped their arms around his figure, Junmyeon beaming while they started to chat animatedly. He observed the trio enter the university side by side, a smile plastered on their lips and leaving the injured man behind, mouth still hanging open at the unspoken words left at the tip of his tongue.

He spent the afternoon and the next day in his home as he let his body slowly heal, skimming through a couple of newspapers he had gathered from his work, resuming his job hunt from the previous day, and occasionally glancing at the letter laying on top of his table, the words ‘undecided major’ and ‘canceled classes’ tainting the white sheets and pulling Jongin more into some of the thoughts he relentlessly tried to push at the back of his mind, his friend’s smiling face haunting him as well. These printed words seemed to stand out to him way more than the mass of other ones around them, his eyes automatically locating those specific ones each time he glanced at them until he rose from his seat and turned the letter so he was faced by the wordless backside of it instead. Nevertheless, his eyes naturally kept drifting towards the paper that held his fate, the words written on it weighing on his conscience and destroying his false sense of security he had managed to build.

He was progressively pulled out from his daydream when he felt vibrations in his pocket, his cell phone ringing. When he managed to take it, it already stopped, Jongin wondering for how long it was ringing for him to miss the call. A notification soon popped up about having a voice message, which he immediately listened to.

  
_ “Hey, Jongin. Your baby is completely restored. I’m still wondering how the fuck you manage to ride such an old engine. I think I repaired it at least three times already. A Suzuki Intruder 800 Volusia from 2001? Really? Get yourself another one, man. My brother is selling his for a low price, a recent model at that, you should check it out. I bet yours will fall into pieces soon if you don’t treat it well. Anyway, you can get your motorbike anytime, as long as you don’t let it rot in my garage for more than two days. I’ve got lots of customers lately. See ya.”_

His mood instantly brightened at the news, Jongin being already excited to ride his engine. A smile danced on his lips when he texted Lu Han to tell him he would pick his motorbike in two days. No matter how impatient he was to ride it after a while, he wouldn’t be able to with his injuries that were still painful. He had changed his bandages maybe once or twice, to Junmyeon’s request after he had spammed him with countless messages about the importance of cleaning his wounds and properly taking care of them. 

Waiting for the day he would pick his motorbike up was awfully long, though. Riding his engine was one of the only ways that kept him from drowning in his thoughts and worries, so being unable to drive was insufferable. It didn’t help him that he couldn’t take part in any of the fights at the club he was a regular at either; he didn’t want to show up with bandages, it would be an utter humiliation and would definitely hurt his reputation in the underground circle. Some took pride in their injuries, but Jongin didn’t like to brag about his hits. He’d rather smile in the victory of being untouched. So he spent the two painful days walking around town, sometimes aimlessly in the busiest streets, other times strolling around the smallest alleys in the company of his playlists and joints, depending on his mood. He also did a few chores in his modest apartment in order to busy himself; dusting his shelves and furniture, cleaning the floor, organise the piles of sheets from the first classes he had in university before dropping off from the semester, and buying groceries. But it only took him a few hours to do all of that and he was left alone with his thoughts as soon as he had managed to escape them for a short while. 

He spent the last evening by the coast under the bridge in his usual spot, smoking in tranquility while constantly having fierce battles against the too recurrent thoughts that kept poking his mind; his blurry future, his professors’ deception, the ignored calls he received from his mother, his fingers itching to accept the calls but his mind stopping them from pushing the button as soon as he read the three letters ‘Mom’ displayed on his electronic device, his bills piling up. 

His solitude.

Impulsively, he removed the bandages covering his hands, threw them farther away from him on the rocks around the coast, cigarette expertly steadied in between his lips, and watched the skyscrapers’ colours reflected on the quiet stream of water while pretending it wasn’t suffocating, pretending that he was alright with feeling like being a stain in between the successful adults around and the flood of ambitious students, people with bright futures and innovative ideas. He didn’t have any of that, hiding behind four walls and the permanent scowl people mistook for being from strength and determination, from courage and confidence.

At that moment, Jongin pretended that his eyes didn’t sting from restrained tears that had been begging to be set free for God knows how long.

________________________________________

_ Loud roars caressing his ears, singing their melody and pulling him into a state of bliss, _

_ wind blowing, making his clothes flutter in all directions, tickling and making goosebumps rise on his skin, his pores trembling from the thrill, _

_ speed and curves molding his body and wrapping his whole being into a cocoon of warmth and revitalising energy, _

_ a small sense of danger making him challenge his destiny and be daring with increasing speed and sharp turns, _

_ feeling strong and alive, vulnerability thrown away while being free. _

Jongin admired his motorbike, freshly repaired and ready to be used. He trailed his hands on its surface, his fingertips gently going from the seat to the hand grips, rejoicing the sensations of the various materials against his skin. The excitement was wildly pumping in his veins at the anticipation of finally driving it as he had needed it for days. It was time for an escapade in the city or even some unknown town a few hours away. The farther, the better.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a look at my brother’s bike? It’s a beauty.”

Jongin shook his head, eyes locked on his engine, “No. I wouldn’t give my baby away just like that. Thanks for the offer though.”

“Alright. Don’t regret it when you’ll see it snatched away before you could even change your mind.”

Lu Han wiped his hands, dirt and oil smeared on the former white towel, now a dark shade of grey and a few holes showing its months of labour. Jongin momentarily detached his gaze from his motorbike only to hand the envelope containing the exact amount of money needed for the repair fees. Lu Han gave him a nod, tapped his shoulder and left him with the engine while preparing to close the garage. Jongin took the sight of his motorbike one last time before hopping on the seat with his helmet on, leather gloves tightly enveloping his hands. He took a moment to savour the feeling of being seated on his dearest bike and put his key inside the ignition switch, making the motorbike roar to life. He gave his last thanks to the engineer and bolted out of the garage, taking the main street that was leading towards the closest highway.

He didn’t care if he was making his engine roar too loudly or if the wind was mercilessly hitting him as he was facing the direction of the strong breeze, he didn’t care about the disapproving looks he received from the other drivers with whom he shared the roads with or if he almost went passed red lights multiple times; he drove fast, adrenaline commanding him to go straight ahead without fear. He glanced at the colorful streets, the dusk of the night still barely visible at the horizon as he drove past the many cars in his way, his heart beating loudly against his chest as the rapture he deeply missed was finally back. He wanted to shout, to laugh his heart out, to let the world know he didn’t give a fuck anymore about their rules and their claws seizing him. He felt like nothing could stop him, he felt powerful and brave, wild and free. He glanced at the names of the streets he was going past by, progressively becoming blurry as he quickened his pace, his heart rate escalating in pure unrestrained elation as the moment he would exit the city was nearing.

Just when he was about to reach the highway, his motorbike suddenly started to slow down on its own, breaking the fast rhythm he had built up and catching Jongin off guard. “What’s happening again?” He groaned in frustration as he progressively understood that his dearest wish at that moment was being snatched away from him. It seemed like the whole world was against him; he learned with a quick glance that his tank was almost empty. Just when the fun was starting, he was denied the right to savour it. 

Spilling countless curses under his breath, his body still trembling in excitement from the thrill he had barely managed to taste, Jongin took a right and parked at the corner of a nearby street before his engine roars came to a stop. He got off his motorcycle, removed his helmet and ruffled his hair in frustration, deep sighs escaping his lips. “Shit!”

He paced back and forth around his bike, kicking a few pebbles around him while his mood considerably deflated. After pondering about the options left to remedy his current situation, he took his phone out of his jacket, instantly greeted by a few notifications.

_1 missed call from ‘Mom’_

_4 text messages from ‘Chanyeol’_

He swiped the missed call notification with a sour feeling and checked his text messages instead.

_ From: Chanyeol _

_ hey man, you coming tonight, right? _

_ haven’t seen you in a while 19:24_

_ yo, it’s starting in a few 20:48_

_ you close by already or not? 21:09 _

Jongin read the messages a few times before realisation hit him; he had promised Chanyeol he would go at the club tonight. It had completely slipped his mind. He couldn’t risk fighting yet, but he could at least bet and gain a good amount of money from it with a little bit of luck. Just as he was about to reply to his friend, his phone’s screen shut down after an image of an empty battery showed up. He stared disbelievingly at his phone for a moment, eyes locked on the black screen. It couldn’t have been worse.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jongin groaned and sat down on the pavement, head buried in his hands. He glanced at his motorbike and sighed, hopeless. He then hastily removed his gloves, the material scratching his wounds while doing so. He threw them on the pavement next to him and observed his bruises that were still visible, less swollen and healing, but still prominent. He moved his knuckles a few times, curling his fingers that were slightly covered in sweat as he relished the feeling of the airbrushing his skin rather than the leather trapping them.

“Jongin?”

The called man whipped his head around in surprise, meeting the last person he thought he would meet at that moment. 

“Jongin! It’s really you! What are you doing here?”

Junmyeon approached him with quick strides, cigarette in hand and his cellphone on the other. Despite his cheerful voice, his face was scrunched in exhaustion, eyebrows slightly furrowed. He was wearing a dark burgundy suit, tie loose around his neck and the first few buttons of his white shirt opened, sweat glistening over the expense of the exposed skin in spite of the rather chilly weather compared to the previous days, the smell of Autumn in the air. Jongin glanced behind his friend and noticed that a large and tall building was standing there, probably a place that held diverse receptions.

“I should be asking you that. I think it’s the first time I am seeing you wear a suit since our graduation,” Jongin exclaimed with a hoarse voice, barely managing to mask his anger and annoyance from his misfortune.

But it didn’t seem to faze his friend since soft chuckles went past Junmyeon’s lips, eyebrows, and face less tense, “My aunt is holding her marriage anniversary in one of the halls up there.”

“Marriage anniversary?”

“Yeah, 25 years now. The whole family is there, dancing to some 90s hits and devouring the buffet. It’s quite entertaining actually.”

“What are you doing here then? You’re missing the fun.”

Junmyeon sighed while glancing at his phone before burying it in his pocket, “I needed a smoke. And my classmates are killing me with their nonsense for our group project. I got stuck with some lazy asses that are never available. What a fucking hassle.”

“If there’s one thing I don’t miss from university, it’s those damn group projects.”

“Right. They’re giving me a headache.”

Junmyeon took a drag on his cigarette, slowly exhaling the smoke while looking over the horizon and glancing at Jongin’s frame next to his motorbike. “So your baby is finally back on track? When did you get it?” he asked with a smile as he squatted down next to him, distress still tainting his features. Jongin took the cigarette and took a puff.

“A few minutes ago. But there’s no gas anymore so I am stuck here.”

“That sucks. Are you waiting for someone to pick you up?” 

Jongin took another drag on the stick before handing it to Junmyeon. “No,” he said bitterly while exhaling, the wind blowing the smoke away. “My phone is out of battery. I was having an existential crisis before you came, and I still do.”

Junmyeon hummed, deep in thought. “I know a gas station not too far from here. We can go there together? It’s easier to transport a motorbike when we’re two.”

The injured man was offered the cigarette again, accepting it, “Nah, you should head back to your party. I am sure they’re waiting for you. I can manage on my own.”

“Said the one who had a crisis a moment ago and 'still do'. Come on, I’ll help you out.”

Jongin looked at his bike and the mess he had made with his gloves. Before he could even open his mouth to object, his friend stepped in, “You look like a mess, Jongin. Stop being stubborn and just accept my offer. It’s not hard to be friendly at times and have help.”

Junmyeon’s tone wasn’t leaving any space for arguments. His stare wasn’t either. Jongin then resigned, not knowing what else he could do to get out of his situation anyway. He put out the cigarette and got up after picking his gloves and his helmet. Junmyeon glanced at his wounded hands but didn’t utter a word about it. They positioned themselves by the opposite sides of the motorcycle and started to push it on the streets, purposely taking the less crowded ones so they wouldn’t hinder the main arteries’ circulation. The night was definitely cooler than the previous ones, Autumn finally slowly showing its colours and taking over the rather hot and long summer they had. The wind was as strong as earlier, ruffling their hair that was peeking at every direction possible. 

The silence floating in the air was awkward. The occasional sounds of the cars and pedestrians passing by momentarily covered the small tension in between the men, but it was uncomfortable. Or maybe Jongin was just too influenced by his bad mood and didn’t feel like having company. Junmyeon didn’t seem as bothered as him about it, too focused on his apparently bad assignment and still not noticing Jongin’s distressed state of mind since their interaction earlier. The student’s phone kept ringing with notifications, the latter repeatedly reading messages and typing furiously while sighing. Jongin stayed silent and awkwardly continued to push his engine while taking a breath of the slightly polluted air, filling his lungs and failing at calming him down as the tense atmosphere the two friends were bathing in was only increasing Jongin’s hostile nerves.

“Ah, fuck it!” Junmyeon suddenly exclaimed. “They can take care of their shit by themselves, I did my share of work, they can deal with their troubles. I’m so sick of them, so fucking irresponsible,” he mumbled as he turned his notifications off and put his phone in his pocket, stress written over his features. “We should arrive at the gas station in about 5 minutes.”

Jongin nodded, eyes focused on the road while the tension grew even more palpable in the air. There were a lot of questions swirling in his mind, a lot of things he wanted to ask Junmyeon about, mainly about the university and his program, or just how he had been doing. They hadn’t talked much for a few weeks now, or rather didn’t have proper conversations other than ones involving his questionable sources of income, some meaningless small talk or Junmyeon’s worries about him, conversations that seemed to be mostly one-sided. There was some distance in between them, a weird atmosphere that disturbed their bond in spite of Junmyeon helping him out and sending him a couple of messages here and there. It was nothing too apparent, but it was there. Something was off and Jongin didn’t know how to cope with it or even what the reason behind it was. But he kept his mouth shut, deciding to be plunged into the awkwardness in between them rather than risking having the kind of conversation he wanted to have. It was easier to avoid it, to keep his thoughts and questions to himself. It took courage to change habits and he hadn’t gathered any of it yet. Junmyeon was the talkative one usually, but he was oddly silent. Jongin didn’t know how to start a conversation. And he wouldn’t admit it, but he wished for Junmyeon at that moment to crack his shell and make him spill his caged thoughts. He was suffocating by himself.

They eventually reached the gas station. Jongin didn’t waste a second to fill his tank with the combustible while Junmyeon headed inside the convenience store, giving the injured man the occasion to breathe as he realised how heavy the tension was between them. After a couple of minutes, Jongin having to wait for quite a while outside, Junmyeon joined him while sliding a pack of cigarettes into Jongin’s pocket and giving some snacks he had bought, expression dejected. The latter questioningly looked at Junmyeon, eyebrows furrowed and started to take the pack out of his pocket, but Junmyeon stopped him.

“Keep it. You can consider it a small gift from me. And don’t bother with the gas’ bill; I took care of it.”

“Hey, Junmyeon, I can’t-”

“Just shut up and take it, alright?” Junmyeon rubbed his shoulder shortly and his hand lingered on his arm, the words strong but his voice soft and somehow sad.

“Why?” Jongin was genuinely curious about his friend’s uncharacteristic behaviour. Junmyeon had always been a caring and nice person; taking care of him and his beloved ones, listening to Jongin’s thoughts the rare times he had managed to make him spill them out, always rushing by his side whenever he was in a bad position regardless of his own personal circumstances. But Junmyeon wasn’t the kind of person to give those kinds of gifts or to have this kind of expression. It was a strange move coming from him.

“You can consider it as an apology gift from me,” he said, eyes hesitantly locking with Jongin’s and averting them continuously as he scratched his hair in nervousness. “It’s nothing big or anything, but that’s the only thing that crossed my mind right now. I am so sorry Jongin, I just realised that I’ve been a shitty friend since you left university. I didn’t even really notice your state until now while I was watching you filling the gas tank from the store. What happened to you? Shit, I am feeling so guilty for not keeping up with you and your life right now. I’m just...I don’t know, I guess I am too caught up my own life and forget that you need me and that you have your own things too. Cigarettes, snacks and gas bill probably won’t solve anything, but I am really sorry for being an ass lately. I care about you, you are aware of that, right?”

Jongin was speechless while Junmyeon was starting to ramble about the reasons why he had been distant and weird lately, about how he was affected by the pile of assignments he had while the semester had only shortly begun, as well as Jongin’s confinement in his apartment instead of crossing him in the university halls, being caught in a swirl that had eclipsed too many things he had put a blind eye upon. He slowly gained his real self back as he was apologising; always having countless thoughts, getting lost into them when talking and ending up changing subjects at a broken pace, punctuated by wide hand gestures, worried about useless things, but still confident and cheerful. Although Junmyeon was distressed at that moment. Jongin’s face softened at a sight he had missed for too long, finally feeling like he had access to the friend he had always known. A smile curved Jongin’s lips while he put the snacks in a compartment at the back of the bike’s seat.

“...Jongin, are you listening to me?”

Jongin smiled and threw his helmet at Junmyeon, the latter managing to catch it even while being startled by the action. Jongin motioned his head in his motorcycle’s direction, “Want to hop in for a ride? There’s enough place for two.”

With Junmyeon wearing the helmet, hands steadied on Jongin’s waist while they were driving around the town, taking some unfamiliar roads and racing when they reached a deserted, earthy and rocky field Jongin usually rides freely in the depths of his loneliest nights, the two men felt the wind violently hitting them, the moon and the headlight being the only sources of light, rejoicing the moment they were sharing together as Jongin grinned widely, weight off his shoulders and the satisfaction of having the most exhilarating freedom he had managed to find at his grasp, making his every cell feel alive and breathing. He felt as light as a feather, as wild as a beast, as happy as ever under the moonlight and the early Autumn air, driving and racing on the field and the surrounding roads, tasting pure freedom. His knuckles were a deep red, wounds and healthy flesh irritated by the constant gusts of wind hitting him, but his grip was strong on the handles, as strong as Junmyeon’s hand clutching his waist as he laughed wholeheartedly during the entire ride, chest moving against his back and providing warmth with his body flushed on his back.

They rode the motorbike for a while, bodies glued to each other, lost into the sensations and emotions engulfing them and caught into the present; duties long forgotten, only the two of them together and filling their lungs with fresh air and their minds with unforgettable memories. It could have lasted for a couple of minutes, an hour, or even more; they couldn’t tell. But when Jongin pulled the engine along the reception building, it felt like only a second had passed.

Junmyeon dusted his suit that was dirty, courtesy of the muddy and dusty field Jongin had the pleasure to splash them into. But he couldn’t care less at that moment as he was next to Jongin’s bike, only a few steps away from the entrance and about to enter the building, eyes locked into his friend’s as they were still caught up into the amount of raw feelings that was enveloping the both of them. Jongin was still seated on the engine, motor on and a wide smile dancing on his lips with his helmet in hand.

“Thank you,” Jongin said when Junmyeon had his hand on the door handle. 

He turned his head around and chuckled, eyes shining brightly, “What for?”

“Everything, anything. Just...Thank you.”

Junmyeon chuckled once again, his voice warm and comforting, and entered the building, suit ruined and hair untamed. Neither of the men had shared a single word during the whole ride, the only sounds going past their lips being laughter and joy. But Jongin felt as if they had the most precious conversation they could have.

He put his helmet on, eyes following Junmyeon until he lost sight of him and went back on the road again for the last ride before going back to his apartment, grinning while picturing the facial expressions and reactions the other guests would have at the sight of Junmyeon’s messy appearance when he would enter his aunt’s marriage reception. While admiring the boring scenery around him, still feeling the ghost of his friend’s grip around his waist, hearing his sweet laughter tickling his ears, Jongin was convinced that the distance he had with Junmyeon, his only true and loyal friend, was only fleeting and that sometimes, words were less powerful than genuine feelings shared. He glanced at his bruised knuckles on the ride back, red like blood, and felt warmth instead of shame. After all, no matter how he could act or how he could mess up, someone would always have his back and be by his side.


End file.
